Romance Should Be On Fire
by thundernut
Summary: Gokudera panics and gives the girl he likes bombs instead of a kiss.  -tried to keep the style Reborn!-esque, hope it makes you laugh!


**The moment I considered writing a Reborn! fic, this came to mind. It made me laugh, hard, and I'm the one who came up with it! I tried to make the narrative reminiscent of the Reborn! style~ Please give it a read!**

Tsuna watched Yamamoto watching Tsuna. They were both just about hovering on the same level of confusion, though it was Tsuna who was more concerned than he was bewildered.

"Do you reckon he saw Bianchi?" Yamamoto offered under his breath.

Tsuna's gaze followed his friend's. "He doesn't normally react like this!"

"Right, so be glad he isn't unconscious!"

Yamamoto's grin was so ridiculously, heartbreakingly innocent that part of Tsuna's brain caved in on itself. Sure, Gokudera wasn't unconscious, but the only reason they knew that just from looking was because he was breathing heavily, as if he'd just sprinted a mile or four.

Their evening had been looking reasonably uneventful (in theory, but this _was_ Tsuna) while they polished off the last of their scrappy homework. Reborn had hounded Yamamoto round to finish math, even though Reborn was the only one who understood the stuff, and Tsuna had automatically started to try and send Yamamoto home; he had claimed he shouldn't have listened to Reborn and taken the trouble to come over, but he realised two things – Yamamoto spent almost every daylight hour with him, and homework should actually get done.

And the door had opened. The boys had blinked up to see Gokudera stalk inside in a hurricane-esque manner, storm across the room – stepping on Yamamoto's foot as he passed – and flop onto Tsuna's bed. He continued to lie straight as a plank, face-down on the duvet while the other two boys gradually began to panic.

Gokudera was practically emanating death-clouds of gloom along the ceiling at this point.

"Hey, Gokudera, it wasn't a girl, was it?" Yamamoto grinned.

_Holy—does he not see the significance in anything? _Tsuna had to resist from slapping his hand on his forehead.

Gokudera grunted into the pillow. At a speed way too fast to be Tsuna, the boy shot to the bedside, eager to hear whatever mourning Gokudera had to say; Yamamoto strolled closer, confident he had been correct in his assumption. Tsuna almost drew in breath to prompt Gokudera to speak again, but the boy did it without need for a helpful poke. Again, neither boy understood, and leaned closer, and then closer again.

"Speak up, Gokudera," Yamamoto beamed and jabbed a cheery finger into his hair.

"YES!" Gokudera shrieked in their faces.

He was nervous, he really was. Nervous fingers toyed with confident dynamite in nervous hands, and Gokudera stared down at the bombs in his palms and tried to absorb their ego. Back pressed against the wall, he knew she wouldn't be walking around the corner for another few minutes, and with each second feeling tragically longer than normal, he could be there for hours for all he knew.

He knew he could fight – if he could throw dynamite and punches, there was no reason he couldn't throw some words around.

From nowhere his precious edged round the corner. In a panic he whirled around, hiding the weapons behind his back with both hands, and stepped out without thinking, blockading the poor girl's path.

"Er," Was all he said.

She was stunning – luscious hair, an adorable smile with dimples that made her look so innocent it was as if nothing bad had ever happened to her. Her uniform was loose but he had seen those curvy contours before, the way her body moved while she walked and her mannerisms when she was sitting in front of him in class.

"Hello,"

Gokudera swallowed hard. He was fighting a war against a number of things right then, but none more so than the lump in his throat. "Hello,"

She smiled politely, moved to step past. He blocked her again.

"Would you like to go out?"

Goofiest sentence in history, was his next thought. For a moment he wasn't even pondering on her reply, he was just insulting himself in his head. His attention strayed from her in this moment of violent self-hatred, and while he imagined tying himself to some train tracks her face had lit up. A blush tickled at her cheeks and her posture suddenly tightened, a nervousness not dissimilar to Gokudera's.

She smiled faintly. "You look nervous,"

Okay, well, all was lost now. Idiot.

In a blind panic – blind, deaf, without commonsense or the ability to conjure sentences – Gokudera's hands shot out – he was offering her the dynamite, and her expression fell. She was of course unsure of what she saw in his sweaty hands but it didn't look friendly, and from her reaction when she took the sudden cascade of bombs it was as if he'd just dropped barbed wire into her arms.

Tsuna and Yamamoto stared, simply stared, at his beaten face.

"You really gave the poor girl dynamite?" Tsuna blurted.

"It wasn't real," Yamamoto rolled his eyes playfully at the stunned Tsuna.

Gokudera rose for a moment from his depressed reverie, before thinking and looking Tsuna in the eye.

"And it blew up while I was running away."


End file.
